What has been the most catastrophic failure of your Christian life?
I've had plenty. Many of them are personal and private. But others have been public – humiliatingly so.
I still feel a mixture of horror, embarrassment and sheer ghastliness when I recall the events of one evening 20 years ago. I was supposed to be giving a talk at someone else's house to a group of non-church people about the Christian faith – and give a short piano recital. Just about everything that could go wrong did go wrong. And then some. I'll spare you the details; suffice to say that, even now, just hearing the name of the piano composer Chopin makes me feel sick.
My wife and I made our excuses and left as quickly as we could, and when we got into our car in the host's driveway, looked at each other and screamed. I do not exaggerate. And then we realised one of the guests had also come outside and was still watching us. The night's abject humiliation was complete.
But what about poor Peter? Peter – the apostle; Peter – one of Jesus' closest friends; Peter – who denied Jesus three times. Ah yes, we all remember that failure, don't we? As we continue our fortnightly pilgrimage through Mark's gospel we come to the point in Jesus' trial where the action switches outside to Peter in the courtyard. Three times Peter is challenged about being a friend of Jesus – and three times he denies he even knows him. Disaster!
Much opinion down the centuries has been pretty damning of Peter at this point. That famous Bible commentator, Bishop JC Ryle, laments eloquently: 'He not only denies his Master once, but does it three times! And he not only denies him simply, but does it cursing and swearing! And above all, he does all this in the face of the plainest warnings...' Poor old Peter, Ryle continues, 'reaped a bitter harvest in this world'.
A more contemporary commentator, Bishop Tom Wright, speaks of Peter's 'blustering assertions and humiliating downfall' and adds: 'Imagine, as a church leader, having your failure written into the foundation documents.' And Donald English, former president of the Methodist Conference, declares: 'The kindest thing said about him is that he at least called curses down on himself, not on anyone else.'
There is truth in all this, of course. But I wonder if we can be a little too harsh on Peter. Hear what the writer Jeremy McQuoid observes. He writes: 'At least Peter was there. All the other disciples had run for their lives. Peter put himself in the place to fail, and ironically his failure was the making of a man who preached with gusto at Pentecost, and later died as a courageous martyr.' McQuoid then challenges us: 'Are you attempting enough for Christ to fail him?'
I like that – even as I find it very humbling and thought-provoking. Are you attempting enough for Christ to fail him? What about you? Are you in a place where you are taking risks so that even if you make a mess, at least you were in there to start with?
For example, what about inviting someone to a Christmas service at your church? Today I had a phone call from a stranger about a matter unrelated to our church. At the end of the conversation I said to them, 'While we're chatting, could I invite you to our carol service in a couple of weeks time?' It was only a small thing, of course. And they might well have politely declined, leaving me at worst feeling slightly embarrassed. But they seemed delighted to accept – and noted down all the details.
Or what about making a Christmastime effort at reconciliation? Is there someone you have fallen out with who you could take the initiative with over the seasonal period, even if your attempts run the risk of rejection and rebuttal?
Are you playing it safe in your Christian life – never attempting anything bold, or different? Is your church firmly in its comfort zone – or sailing into fresh, uncharted territory for the sake of the kingdom? Are you attempting enough for Christ to fail him? And if you do fail – remember that, as for Peter, failure is not necessarily final.
My talk those 20 years ago was a disaster. But – by the grace of God, and only by his grace – I am somehow now able to give talks every week, despite that shuddering failure.
I must admit, though, if you want one final confession: I've never, ever, played anything by Chopin ever since.
David Baker is a former daily newspaper journalist now working as an Anglican minister in Sussex, England. Find him on Twitter @Baker_David_A The Rough Guide to Discipleship is a fortnightly series.
